[GUITAR PLAYING] I really think folk music can find its origins in all Black music. There are some times where I’ll hear a country song that sounds so much like a soul song to me that it makes you wonder, how could they really get to country music without soul? (SINGING) When you become somebody’s band and then their heart becomes your lute, what kind of player does that make you? There’s this sense of a Black revival in country music right now. I think a lot more people of color are being represented in the folk and country space and a lot more people of color are also just being interested in country music and interested in folk music. [BANJO PLAYING] The main thing about folk is it is a storytelling genre. So any genre that conveys a story to the audience I would consider folk music. I joined this club at my middle school called the Mountain Music Club. I heard banjo in there for the first time, and I instantly fell in love with it. It is difficult for a lot of Black people to trace back their cultural heritage because there were no records kept. The banjo is, I guess, the closest that I’m going to get to having an ancestral understanding of where I come from. But it’s all sonic. The sonic aspect of it comes first. I grew up in suburbia, so my world was very much alternative rock, skateboarding, and I didn’t have any real sense of where do I come from beyond that. I was in my early 20s when I started playing old-time banjo or claw hammer banjo. And I took lessons at East Tennessee State University here in Johnson City. That’s where I really started to dig into Appalachian history and culture and the music of where I’m from. [FOLK MUSIC PLAYING] There was a particular act called the Carolina Chocolate Drops. I learned about them at a pretty pivotal point in my life. “(SINGING) Ain’t this soul seems [INAUDIBLE].. Ain’t this —” Well, I always had a desire to sing and play music. So when I found that I could just get a guitar and pick it up and start playing and singing music, that was it for me. ”(SINGING) If you want a Gibson —” So, back in 2005, I met with two people by the name of Rhiannon Giddens and Justin Robinson. We spent our time sitting at the feet of an elder musician by the name of Joe Thompson, who was an old time fiddler. So we started to make music together that was showcasing early African-American fiddle and banjo string band music. We came together as three young African-American people reinventing and re-imagining the African-American folk songbook and bringing that to new audiences. But first, I just picked up the banjo because I liked the sound of New Orleans jazz and also bluegrass music. But then later on, I found out that the banjo has a deep African root. [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] Learning about that history and how West African music played a huge role in country music gave me the opportunity to have a lot of really productive conversations with people. It was a teachable moment to explain, well actually, there’s this long tradition of Black musicianship within country music. “(SINGING) When you get down to Holbrook, you won’t find me there, good Lord. I called the first thing —” Folk is a type of genre that is outside of the mainstream music popular framework. It’s something that is removed from Black culture in a lot of ways. And so there’s always an uphill battle to bring a stronger, more predominant Black audience into the mix. “(SINGING) God, the first thing smoking down the road somewhere.” Thank you all so much. I wanted to do a group selfie with y’all if you’re cool with that. [CHEERS] My audience throughout my entire career has been predominantly white. I think that is a direct result of creating genres based on race in the early 20th century. Genre, at the end of the day, as it exists in the music industry is really about profit and how to market someone. ”(SINGING) The rolling credits —” I’m really inspired by a concept that Gwendolyn Brooks instilled in me which is writing what’s under your nose and just documenting what’s right in front of you everyday people and everyday life. ”(SINGING) I have so many —” We’re entering a time where a lot of the music feels disconnected from people’s lives. And you listen to the top 40 artists, and they’re singing about how much money they have and how many things they have. And that doesn’t feel like it reflects a country that is teetering into a depression, essentially. “(SINGING) Wake up, wake up, darlin’ Corey, what makes you sleep so sound?” I think that there’s just a general yearning for lyricism again too. I think people want to hear stuff with messages and people want to connect with music in a different way now. “(SINGING) Well the first time I saw darlin’ Corey, she was sitting on the banks of the sea.” I’ve always treated myself as someone who’s standing on the shoulders of all these musicians who have come before. I’m also trying to lift up all the different voices so that we have a more well-rounded picture of African-American folk music traditions. “(SINGING) — in the meadow —” When it comes to what a lot of people look at as bluegrass, I’m one of the only Black musicians in it — definitely one of the only ones on the touring circuit and bluegrass festivals. And so I think in that regard, I’ve brought that kind of idea that, oh yeah, this is my music too just as much as it’s anybody else’s music. “(SINGING) We’re going to let —” A lot of people I know don’t like country music. But then I play music for them, and they’re like, “Oh, I like this.” And so I think a lot of my job is trying to complicate country music and maybe ruffle feathers along the way.” “(SINGING) We’re going to lay darlin’ Corey down.”